


The Light That Waits

by likehandlingroses



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Just Right-verse fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-10 10:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12909885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likehandlingroses/pseuds/likehandlingroses
Summary: Gideon asks his new boyfriend, Roderick, to come stay with his family over the holidays. Roderick accepts and finds himself in the midst of the love, kindness, and chaos of the Gold family. Meanwhile, though they've celebrated many Christmases together, Rumple and Belle never tire of finding new ways to brighten the holidays, both for each other and their ever-growing family.





	1. Chapter 1

It took Gideon some time to work up the courage to ask Roderick if he wanted to stay at his parent’s house for Christmas break. He’d left well enough alone at Thanksgiving, figuring it was only a week’s vacation, and they’d only been dating for a few months.

But Christmas vacation would last almost a month, and Roderick didn’t have anywhere else to go. At least, nowhere with family. Though it was a definite improvement over his former life with the Black Fairy, the town Roderick came from was stagnant, old fashioned, and without opportunity. None of which appealed to Roderick, who had decided to make his own way at sixteen.

“And my parents didn’t like that much,” he said, adding that he of course still spoke with them on occasion. However, they had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he couldn’t have it both ways. He either gave up the life he’d decided he wanted, or he gave up having the security of his parents when that life became lonely or difficult.

And for Roderick, who was both stubborn and proud, the choice was simple.

All things considered, he’d adjusted well. Indeed, he seemed quite happy in his independence.

However, Gideon knew he’d feel guilty forever if he didn’t at least ask Roderick if he wanted to join his family for Christmas. And he’d have to ask soon, if Roderick was to have any hope of convincing his supervisor to let him off for the month.

So he finally braced himself and did it one afternoon. Roderick accepted without hesitation, perhaps in part because Gideon promised his mother would be more than happy to find Roderick some work if he wanted it.

“She works at the university library up there, and about half the student workers go home for Christmas, but they stay open. So she’ll have plenty for you to do. If you want to come at all, of course! I know it sounds like a lot, but it’s not. Alice came too last year. My parents always ask me to bring whoever might want to come. It’s not...I’m trying to make things...different.”

“It’s fine,” Roderick replied, smiling, and Gideon felt the knot that had developed in his gut unravel in relief. “I’m glad you asked, actually. It’ll be better than hanging around here alone.”

Before Gideon knew it, the semester had ended, and he, Alice, and Roderick were on a plane back home. Gideon didn’t mind being away, and he loved school, but coming home was always special. Alice also seemed even more chipper than usual. As a child, she’d lost too much to ever admit to emotional attachments, but she was quite fond of the Golds (and perhaps even fonder of the fact that they liked her). Even Roderick had a peculiar energy about him--though Gideon supposed that could be due to exams being over more than anything else.

Nevertheless, the long day of traveling wore down their enthusiasm some, and by the time their plane landed at ten o’clock, the three of them were half-asleep.

“You sure your old man is going to be okay driving?” Alice joked. “Past his bedtime, isn’t it?”

Gideon laughed, though she was half-right. In the years since his father had given up his curse, he’d become more human in certain habits. In Gideon’s youth, his father had been out of bed in a flash to help with any manner of problems, be they nightmares or sickness. Now, he liked to have his lights out by ten and couldn’t be relied upon to get up before seven.

“He might give me the keys,” Gideon replied, knowing that no such thing would ever happen. His father might sleep more, but he was no less stubborn for losing his powers. If he’d come to pick Gideon and his friends up from the airport, he’d be driving them home as well.

As they came down the escalator to the baggage claim, Gideon spotted his parents, both of whom looked quite alert despite the late hour. They were seated on a bench, his father’s head bent to listen to something his mother was saying. His cane was carefully set on the edge of the bench, and his hands were both clasped in his wife’s. They looked as at peace with the world as it was possible to be.

“I don’t know if he’s told you, Roderick, but his parents are disgusting. Absolutely besotted with each other,” Alice said, beaming at them nonetheless.

In another moment, his parents had seen them. He saw his mother wave excitedly before standing up and beckoning Rosie over. He grinned and looked at Roderick, who smiled back with only a hint of anxiety.

“They seem nice,” he said.

* * *

 

Belle winced as she settled down on the unforgiving airport bench. Between work and the car, she’d been sitting for far too long today already.

“I’ll have to go walking tomorrow,” she said to Rumple, who was settling in next to her. “You think one of the girls would come with me? Assuming Rosie survives the night...?”

She looked over at her daughter, who had immediately run over to the charging station upon arriving at the airport. The poor girl had neglected to write a paper that was due tomorrow and had been forced to bring her laptop with her.

Staying home to write the paper was, of course, out of the question. Rosie missed her brother terribly when he was away--more than she’d ever admit--and Belle had felt her anticipation building for several days now. It was only an hour’s difference, all told, and yet she knew it would matter far more than any paper Rosie had to write.

For the very same reason, she’d nearly dragged little Joseph along as well, despite the late hour, until Rumple had pointed out that they’d need the car space.

“He’ll see him in the morning, and Carrie’s already said she’d rather stay home and watch him.”

Carrie loved Gideon as much as Rosie did, but in recent months she’d been hard at work overcoming her anxieties in preparation for college in the fall. One such anxiety involved caring for Joseph, who Carrie was convinced she might accidentally hurt if entrusted with him. In a house with so many adults and teenagers, it was easy for Carrie to defer the task of caring for her little brother to everyone else, but several weeks ago she’d come to Belle and asked if she might help her in changing that.

Tonight was her first real “test,” and if Belle knew anything about Carrie after being her mother for ten years, it was that she would pass with flying colors. No one in the family was more determined.

“Well, if she doesn’t survive, I’ll go with you, how’s that?” Rumple said, glancing at his watch in concern. Belle took his hand, and he offered his other one as well.

“It’s ten minutes, Rumple. You should be happy! We would have been late.”

“I know,” he said, looking unconvinced.

“In fact-” she looked around for one of the status boards. “I’ll bet it says...look at that! They’re landing right now. They’ll be here in a few minutes. See? Just have to look for an answer.”

“Oh, is that why they put those there?” Rumple joked. Belle laughed before squeezing his hands.

“We’re all going to be home! I could hardly concentrate today, I was so excited.”

“He was here three weeks ago,” Rumple said, though his smile indicated that he felt the same way.

“I know, but he’s bringing his boyfriend! Can you believe that? We were taking him to kindergarten a minute ago.”

And yet, even as Belle marvelled at how quickly time had passed, she couldn’t help but feel that the description was insufficient. When taken as a whole, of course it was true. She didn’t feel much older than the woman who had warred with herself over what having their baby back in their arms meant for her and Rumple’s marriage. And yet, in another sense, when she took it moment by moment...it had been so long, so full, that she almost couldn’t comprehend the difference even a few of those years had made.

She hoped there would be many more of them. As grateful as she was for what she’d been given, she wanted more. Wanted more days to see her children find new horizons, wanted more time to laugh with her husband, wanted more time to discover herself and what she could do in this world.

Someday, she might be ready to rest. But as she watched her son come down the escalator, a grin on his face, she felt sure such a day wouldn’t come for some time.

Gideon held them all as tightly as he always had, though Belle could see the exhaustion in his face.

“You look tired!” she said, still clinging to his arm.

“Well, we’ve been in airports for about twelve hours,” he said before looking back at Roderick. “And I have to introduce you! Sorry.”

Gideon had just the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks now, though if Belle had to guess she’d say it was more from excitement than embarrassment.

“This is Roderick. And these are my parents and Rosie. Probably you all know quite a bit about each other already, from all my talking.”

“Not me!” Rosie said. “You haven’t told me _anything_ about Roderick.”

But she was quiet when Belle gave her a withering look.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Belle said, shaking Roderick’s hand. He seemed nervous--of course he would be--but she could see an eagerness there as well. Gideon had said he was a kind, passionate person, and she trusted her son. Even more than that, she trusted her own eyes, and there was nothing but earnestness in Roderick’s face.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay with you.”

“Of course!’ Belle squeezed his arm. “We’re so glad to have you. It’s all I’ve been talking about.”

“She’s right,” Rumple agreed as he shook Roderick’s hand.

“Hey, Gold,” Alice said, walking up to Rumple. “I’ve finally got that money to pay you back for my books. It’s in an envelope with your name on it and everything. Told you I wouldn’t forget!”

“And I told you I don’t need the money,” Rumple replied. Alice opened her mouth to protest, but Rumple held up a hand. “But I knew you’d bring it anyway, so why don’t we compromise? You buy us both lunch. There’s a sandwich shop that opened up, just down the road. Has a panini press and avocado. Very modern.”

“They’ll have to be pretty expensive sandwiches to cover it,” Alice said, and Rumple shrugged.

“Well, we have a month. We’ll go more than once...maybe bring some of this brood along. I’m sure we can manage it.”

Alice nodded at the floor and made her way to the baggage carrier in reply, a smile crossing her face. Rumple looked delighted as well. He had a soft spot for Alice, as he did all lost children.

Though everyone was weary, a steady and excited stream of chatter propelled them from the baggage claim, to the car, and all the way home.

* * *

 

“Gideon, can I talk to you?” Mrs. Gold asked Gideon, beckoning him to the side of the door as they all entered the house.

Roderick stood in the foyer of the Gold’s home, trying not to panic. He’d wanted to meet Gideon’s family, he really had. They seemed like nice people, and of course it would have to be better than sitting alone and working long hours all Christmas season. And yet, the sense of being the outsider was overwhelming. The Golds were close-knit, and Alice was already half a part of their family.

Then he’d gotten to their home, and there were more of them. The one little brother, Joseph, was already asleep, but his sister Carrie had come running out to meet her brother the second they pulled into the garage.

Looking at the walls filled with pictures of various children, Roderick guessed they were always coming in and out. There’d been about a dozen different Gold families, at least, some bigger than others, but all looking quite happy.

It seemed like a wonderful family to be a part of. But so far Roderick had only succeeded in losing the family he’d started with, so he wasn’t altogether sure he’d be able to manage it, even for four weeks.

When Gideon returned, a bit pale, Roderick braced himself for the worst. Perhaps Mrs. Gold already didn’t care for him, and he’d have to go back.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, she just wanted me to know there’s a guest room for you, if you want it. Just in case, she said.”

Roderick’s shoulders sank as the tension he’d been holding in them disappeared. “Oh, okay! It’s up to you. I understand if you want your own space, while you’re home.”

That was the truth, though he also prayed Gideon wouldn’t. With their busy schedules, the two rarely had time to spend together, even at night. Oh, if they tried (and they often did) there was time enough for sex or dinner or a conversation. But then one of them had a paper to finish or a meeting to go to, and the lingering, quiet, honest parts of being together were never quite realized. And Roderick wanted them to, had indeed been thinking of little else ever since Gideon offered to let him stay.

Gideon shook his head. “Not really. Unless you’d rather-?”

“No, no,” Roderick said. “I’m...your room is fine.”

Gideon nodded. “Here, I’ll show you where it is.”

Gideon’s room was smaller than Roderick had imagined it. The Golds were well to do, that much was clear, but they were not ostentatious. The entire house, though sizable, seemed somehow still compact. The room had clearly been dusted in anticipation of Gideon’s arrival, and the bed was made up with warm blankets and an extra set of pillows (for clearly Mrs. Gold had known where Roderick was likely to end up). And, of course, there were bookshelves everywhere.

“Seem alright?” Gideon asked, after Roderick had looked around.

“It’s great,” Roderick replied, and Gideon smiled.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “I know it’s...a lot going on here, but it’s nice, too. I think--I hope--you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

He leaned in to kiss Gideon, but before he could a pattering sound came from Gideon’s door, as though someone were beating on it like a drum.

Gideon grinned. “That’ll be Joseph,” he said.

And so it was, all three or so feet of him. Gideon feigned surprise when he opened the door.

“Oh my goodness! I thought you were asleep!” he said, before scooping him up and planting a kiss on his cheek.

“My tummy was too excited!” Joseph explained. Gideon laughed.

“Mine’s excited too! I missed you so much.” Then he turned to Roderick.

“Hey, I want to show you someone,” he told Joseph. “This is Roderick, my boyfriend. He’s staying with us for a while, and he's really nice.”

“Rosie has a boyfriend too!” Joseph said, and Gideon’s eyes widened.

“Oh, you’ll have to tell me more about that. But right now, you’ve got to sleep!”

“But, Gideon!” Though Gideon had made no move to set Joseph down, Joseph gripped him tighter. “You can tuck me in, right?”

“Of course,” he replied. “Let’s go!”

“And Gideon? Your boyfriend can see my room, if he wants!” Joseph said, looking at Roderick shyly while he said it.

“You want to show him your nightlight?” Gideon asked, and Roderick could detect nothing but a gentle sincerity in the words, silly as they were. Joseph nodded, and Gideon looked at Roderick questioningly.

“You want to come see it? It’s a pretty cool nightlight. It’s got--” but Joseph put a hand over his mouth.

“He has to see it first!”

“Sorry,” Gideon whispered. And then off they went to Joseph's room. 

It was, Roderick had to admit, a first rate nightlight. It was a sort of lava lamp, with silvery glitter floating in a blue substance. Joseph stared at him, looking for a reaction, which put Roderick on edge. He wasn’t like Gideon; he hadn’t grown up with other children, and he didn't particularly understand them. But the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Gideon’s kid brother over a nightlight, so he did his best to look very impressed.

“That’s really cool!” he said, hoping he hadn’t taken it too far and made himself look ridiculous. Joseph, however, looked more than happy with his response. Gideon set him down on the bed.

“Now, lie down, okay? You’ve still got school tomorrow, right?”

“It’s just a party,” Joseph said, though he lay down and let Gideon help him with his covers. “And guess what? I made cupcakes with Mama today!”

“That’s so great. Chocolate?” Joseph nodded. “Thought so. But still, you’d better rest up...parties can get tiring.”

“But tomorrow you have to tell me a story, okay?”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking of a really good one,” Gideon replied, giving Joseph’s hand a squeeze. “And I’ll tell it to you tomorrow. Promise. So just close your eyes, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too.” Joseph squeezed his eyes shut and curled up on his side. Gideon ran his hand over Joseph’s back a few times before kissing the side of his head.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, a contented smile on his face. He looked, Roderick thought, very much like his parents had when Roderick had first set eyes on them.

Roderick’s mother had a habit of terming things “sweet as could be.” It got a bit tiresome, after a while. Roderick didn’t think the phrase had to apply to every marginally tender action or fluffy animal. But Gideon really was sweet as could be, Roderick thought, watching him with his brother. That much had always been clear, but here in this house? Gideon was in his element, right in the midst of everything that had made him who he was. And Roderick would get to see that, experience it in a way he never had before.

No, he’d made the right choice in coming.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Rumple yawned as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He’d looked forward to sleeping in, seeing as Gideon had offered to drive his siblings to school, but Belle wanted to get up early to make a special breakfast. For some reason, it all had to be done before any of the children woke up. A surprise, Belle had called it. Rumple didn’t know in what context breakfast could be considered a surprise, but his misgivings about getting up before six were alleviated by his realization that he’d have some quiet, peaceful time with his wife. Such a thing was difficult to come by in their home, and while Rumple wouldn’t trade away any part of his life, he sometimes wished he had more time to spare. But there were only twenty-four hours in a day, and if he wanted more time, he’d have to squeeze things together.

Today, it was sleep’s turn to get squeezed, as Rumple found himself mixing waffle batter at six in the morning. Belle was beside him, cutting fruit for a salad, already dressed and ready for work. Gods knew when she’d gotten up.

The morning proved even nicer than Rumple had hoped it would be. They had time to talk, to laugh, and even flirt without one of their children rolling their eyes. Just now, the room had gone quiet as they worked. Rumple liked that almost as well as when they were elbow deep in an enthusiastic conversation. He’d been married to Belle for over twenty years, and so there was no expectation that they’d always have something to say to each other. Pretense had left their relationship long ago and left only a cozy sense of familiarity in its place.

And Rumple loved it. He loved her, more and more as time passed. His fear that someday he’d lose her had left him; he couldn’t say just when it had left, only that it had. Not because he felt suddenly sure about the future, but because he felt sure about the present. For the first time in perhaps his entire life, Rumple couldn’t think of anything else he wanted.

As the sun came up, Rumple figured a bit of sleepiness was a small price to pay for such contentment.

The morning, aside from the massive amount of food, moved as most weekday mornings did. Carrie was up first, followed by Gideon. Joseph came downstairs shortly after. Carrie eventually went back upstairs to wake up Rosie, who tumbled down the stairs half dressed. Even Alice was up by seven, perhaps awakened by the increasing roar of chatter in the kitchen.

In fact, when Belle left for work, only Roderick was still asleep. Belle insisted on setting aside a plate of food for him, which ended up being a good idea, for the rest of breakfast was polished off without any trouble.

“Gideon, don’t forget the cupcakes for Joseph, okay?” Belle shouted across the room as she put her coat on. She took Rumple’s arm and kissed him. “Make sure he doesn’t forget them.”

Rumple nodded. “I will. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Another kiss and a wave, and she was off. Ten minutes later, so was the rest of the room, for Alice had decided to join Gideon on his morning errand.

“Seeing if I want to take up school bussing,” she said before laughing at her own joke.

After he heard the grating hum of the garage door shutting, Rumple decided on pouring another cup of coffee. Now that Joseph was in school, he was getting used to having some time to himself again. Soon, he was settled at the kitchen table, his hands wrapped around an overlarge mug. He loved his family, but he had nothing against the quiet that fell on the house when only he was in it.  

Then he remembered he wasn’t alone. Roderick was still upstairs, and if Rumple wasn’t lucky, he’d wake up before Gideon came back. The boy seemed nice enough, but Rumple wasn’t keen on being left alone with new people. Twenty years of softening hadn’t changed that.

Suddenly, the house was much, much too quiet.

* * *

 

Roderick awoke with a start. His phone was ringing on the bedside table. It was probably Gideon, calling to see if he’d gotten up yet.

Roderick looked at his phone and frowned. It was his parents’ number, an unusual sight. They rarely called him, and when they spoke nowadays it was nearly always because Roderick had broken down and called them. Feeling a sense of dread, Roderick picked up his phone.

“Hello?”

“I thought you were working over break,” his dad replied, something sinister in his voice.

“I’m off today,” he lied, though something told him he needn’t bother. It was a sort of compulsion at this point, lying to his parents.

“Oh, you’re off today? That why you’re halfway across the country with some...why don’t you tell me which words I’m allowed to use again? I didn’t take any notes last time you gave that lecture.”

Roderick had guessed his dad knew something was amiss. He hadn’t guessed that his knowledge ran quite that far.

“How-?”

“-one of your genius buddies posted a picture. Tagged you and everything. You wanna tell me why you’re in public holding another grown man’s hand?”

Roderick faintly remembered Rosie taking pictures at the airport. He hadn’t thought much of it, at the time. He wasn’t closeted, especially. His parents knew; he’d told them several times, and they’d promptly pretended to forget until he reminded them.

However, he hadn’t told them he was dating anyone. He’d never gone so far as that. For both him and his parents, it made his sexuality real in a way he knew they wouldn’t like.

“Dad, I…”

“That’s why you wanted to leave. So you could do that. I always wondered...but your mother really believed all that crap about school and everything. Are you even going?”

“Yes, I’m going to school,” Roderick sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was seeing someone. I didn’t think you’d care.”

That was only a half-truth, but it would do in a pinch. Roderick didn’t have the energy to try and unpack how either of his parents felt about him. After all, he’d only just woken up.

“I don’t. If you wanna make a fool out of yourself, you go right on ahead and do it. I hope it’s worth it. You have your life; you live it how you want.”

He was lying. He cared, had always cared. He hated that his son was gay, and despite himself, Roderick was grateful that he didn’t say just how much.

“Then why’d you even call?” he asked.

“Because I still have to hear about you! Everyone at work was talking about it. My kid’s a queer. I’ve told you before not to talk about it, that I don’t want to know and neither does anyone else, and you just keep broadcasting it like you want an award. Just wondering if you’d have the decency-”

“-no,” Roderick retorted, and he hung up. His dad wanted a fight, but he wasn’t going to get it from him. Not anymore. Roderick had fallen for it time and time again, thinking that if he just said the right thing at the right time, his dad would understand. It had taken him far too long to realize that the problem wasn’t his inability to explain. Nothing in the world could make anyone understand something they only wanted to resist.

He very nearly sunk back into bed, but he knew that would only make things worse. No, the thing to do was face the day. And so he got dressed, washed his face, and tried to forget the derision in his dad’s voice.

Downstairs, only Mr. Gold sat at the long kitchen table. Roderick was grateful, for Gideon would surely sense something was wrong straight away, and Roderick didn’t have the nerve built up to tell him yet.

Mr. Gold smiled at him, though Roderick could see aloofness behind his eyes. Gideon always spoke of his father in the fondest terms, but a few days before their journey, he’d suggested to Roderick that it might take Mr. Gold some time to warm up to him.

“He’s not great with people,” Gideon had said. “Just as a rule. I think they frighten him, and then he pretends they don’t...and people think he’s judging them. He’s just scared they’re doing it to him, that’s all.”

Considering Mr. Gold had once been a powerfully dark sorcerer, Roderick wasn’t sure “that’s all” summed it up, quite. Nevertheless, he trusted Gideon when he said that Mr. Gold was happy to have him--as much as he was ever happy to have anyone who wasn’t family around.

“You sleep alright?” Mr. Gold asked, after a pause.

“Oh, yeah, just fine. Thanks.”

Mr. Gold gestured to the countertop.

“There’s food over there for you. Belle set it aside. It should still be warm, but you’re welcome to the microwave or toaster or anything.”

“Thanks,” Roderick said, grabbing the plate and pulling off the tin foil. It was, indeed, still warm, and Roderick fumbled about for only a moment before finding the silverware drawer. Soon, he was sitting across from Mr. Gold, trying to look interested in his plate.

“Gideon should be back soon with Alice,” Mr. Gold said. “I told him you three could borrow the car, if you wanted to go anywhere today.”

Roderick nodded, and they fell into silence. Finally, Mr. Gold cleared his throat and spoke.

“So Gideon says you’re an environmentalist. We have some nice woods out here, if you wanted to see them while you’re staying.”

Roderick almost laughed, but he knew Mr. Gold wouldn’t take well to that. People always thought of trees first. It got a bit tiring. He considered how--or whether--to correct him.

“I’m more interested in water, actually,” Roderick finally admitted. “People think of trees when you talk about the environment, and they’re important...but until everyone has clean drinking water, it’s all for nothing.”

Mr. Gold nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. Roderick didn’t know if that was good or not. “So how do you go about that?”

Roderick shrugged. “I got into environmental engineering to find out, but most of the solutions are already around. And even advancements we still need to make won’t matter until we get rid of the mentality that making money and economic growth are goods in and of themselves.”

“That’s a tall order, isn’t it?” Mr. Gold said, laughing, though Roderick didn’t think he was making fun of him. Perhaps the world, but not him.

“I guess,” Roderick said. “But it’s worth trying.”

“You’re like him,” Mr. Gold said. “Gideon has his passions, too. He thinks the world should be better, and that someday it will be if he just tries hard enough.”

Roderick knew what Mr. Gold meant. Though he was clever, cleverer than anyone Roderick had met, Gideon had resisted the courting of various university departments. He knew what he wanted to do, and that was social work. When they’d first met, Roderick had heard Gideon remark that his passion had little to do with growing up around foster children.

“It’s something deeper...I’ve always wanted it, I guess. Even before my parents started fostering. Not sure why. Just one of those things.”

They both soon learned why, of course. After their first kiss had brought something back from another life, much of Gideon’s heart became clear. He might have been returned to his parents, but something of Gideon would always remain firmly attuned to the plights of vulnerable children.

Roderick didn’t especially like to think about how his own life had been shaped by those years--erased but not forgotten--but when he hazarded a glance towards them, he supposed that after all that, there wasn’t much left to be afraid of.

“He’s a really good person,” Roderick said. “One of the best people I’ve ever met, really. I’m lucky to have found him. Twice, actually.”

Mr. Gold smiled at him, this time with something like warmth behind the gesture. “I don’t have to tell you to be good to him, do I?”

Roderick shook his head. “No.”

He went back to eggs, already feeling better than he had before.

* * *

 

“Well, that took a while,” Alice said when Gideon shut the car door.

“I had to get a tour of the kindergarten classroom and everything in it,” Gideon replied, grinning. Joseph had been bouncing in his seat the entire ride, eager to show his big brother his school (and to show off his big brother to everyone in it).

Before Alice could respond, Gideon’s phone rang. An unknown number; Gideon didn’t even know the area code. Nevertheless, he picked it up. It might be anyone from school.

“Hello?”

The man on the other line sounded gruff, arrogant, and quite angry. “You the one fucking my son?”

Gideon looked over at Alice, who had heard at least the relevant details of what the man had said.

“I’m sorry...who is this?” Gideon asked.

“Do you know Roderick?” the man answered, and for a second, Gideon felt an utterly irrational sense of relief.

“Oh! You’re-”

But Gideon didn’t get to finish, and in another moment anything he felt that wasn’t a sense of overwhelming nausea vanished.

“-listen,” Roderick’s father continued. “I don’t know how your parents raised you; I don’t care. And as he’s told me a million times, my boy’s an adult. So you do whatever you want. But you keep it out of my face, alright? It’s about respect. I don’t wanna know. No one wants to know. You wanna advertise your perversion, you find someone else’s boy to do it with.”

For the life of him, Gideon didn’t know what he was talking about. He looked over at Alice, who reached into her pocket for her phone. ‘Hold on,’ she mouthed, but Gideon felt he had to say something, so he did, stammering all the while.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know-”

“Oh, you don’t know? You don’t have any idea?” he said, his voice getting louder. “Well, I’ll tell you what: you just try and figure it out and make sure it doesn’t happen again, or else I’ll come up there and show you myself. Does that make sense to you?”

While he spoke, Alice poked Gideon and held her phone screen out. Rosie had posted a picture--a collage, really--of the night before. Pictures of his parents, selfies of her, one of Alice pulling a face...and in the corner, one of him and Roderick, holding hands.

“I...I didn’t mean to upset you,” Gideon said, knowing that wouldn’t matter in the slightest at this point. “I think if you talked to Roderick-”

“Don’t tell me when to speak with my son. Do you understand what I’m telling you? It’s a yes or no.”

Gideon felt himself beginning to cry, though whether for himself or Roderick, he didn’t know.

“Yes, I understand,” he said, praying that if he said the right thing, the conversation would end. He truly thought he might be sick. Thankfully, Roderick’s father only replied with a “Good talking to you” and hung up.

“You want me to drive?” Alice suggested, as Gideon stared out the window, trying to compose himself. “I don’t have my license yet, but I’ve been studying pretty close, so I think I could get us home.”

Gideon shook his head and laughed in spite of himself. “I’ll be fine. I just hope Roderick’s alright.”

 “I’d almost rather not have parents, you know?” Alice said.

They didn’t say anything the rest of the way home. Gideon steeled himself before entering the house, preparing for an angry Roderick to greet him. Worse still, an emotionally broken one.

However, all he found was his father and Roderick at the kitchen table, neither of them talking and yet with only the smallest hint of uncertainty between them. Gideon could hardly believe it. Unless Roderick didn’t know?

He knew that wasn’t so when Roderick looked up at him, for their eyes betrayed each of them in an instant. Roderick knew, and Roderick now knew that he did as well.

“How was the school?” his father asked.

“Fine,” Gideon said, still looking at Roderick. “Joseph showed me the class rabbits. And his cupcakes are going to be popular. I could tell.”

“It’s the sprinkles,” Alice said, sitting up on one of the counters. “Kids love sprinkles. I would have taken one myself, if your mum hadn’t promised we’d be making more.”

Pleasantries over, Roderick excused himself and followed Gideon out of the kitchen and back up to his room. Gideon closed the door behind him.

“So he called you too?” Roderick asked. “How did he even-?”

“You can find anything if you look hard enough,” Gideon replied. “I’m so sorry. Rosie didn’t mean to; she just doesn’t think sometimes. I’ll have her take it down.”

Roderick shook his head and sat on Gideon’s bed. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not a big deal. It’s his problem, not mine. And definitely not yours or your family’s. Please, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, of course I’m worried about it.” Gideon followed Roderick to the bed. “It’s awful, what he said. And I’m a stranger to him. I can’t imagine what he…are you sure you’re alright?”

Roderick looked down at the carpet. “It’s never going to be okay with me. But it’s what happens sometimes. And all things considered, my life is pretty good. I’ve got everything I need, and a lot of things I want. Including you.”

He reached out and grabbed one of Gideon’s hands and squeezed it. Gideon looked at him, and Roderick smiled in amusement.

“You look like you’re going to pass out,” he said. “It’s really fine. I’m fine. I’m happy and I’m healthy and I love you and I’m fine.”

He’d never said that before. Love. Gideon didn’t know whether to let the moment pass or not, what to say or do that wouldn’t make him look either underwhelmed or overeager. He decided on a kiss. That often calmed his mind down (and was rarely a poor starting point).

Only this time, when his lips touched Roderick’s, a flood of emotions he’d never quite felt before rushed his body all at once. And yet, he remembered them, he realized. A sense of crushing guilt, the relief of forgiveness, a desire to protect...someone. Him.

Roderick gasped and pulled away, and Gideon could see from his wide eyes that he’d experienced his own burst of feeling. Gideon didn’t know why it had happened again or why it had happened now, and just now it didn’t matter, for all he wanted to do when he saw Roderick was tell him...something important, he knew that much. But the feelings, the memories, wouldn’t give him the word. For he hadn’t known it, then. So he pushed through them, back to his present self, placing a hand on the back of Roderick’s head and pressing his forehead to his own.

“I love you,” he whispered, not caring anymore if he was being silly or sentimental. Love meant too much to spend time finding the right way to express it.

Roderick’s breath was still shaky, and Gideon knew that--if he’d ever truthfully been fine--he wasn’t now. It wasn’t fair, that he had to remember the pain of one life when he’d lived through another. He was stronger, had always been stronger, than Gideon could imagine being. But he’d have to try and pretend, from time to time, so Roderick could have somewhere to be weak.

“It doesn’t have to be fine,” he said, as Roderick moved his head to Gideon’s shoulder. “I’ll still be here.”

He could feel Roderick nodding, and then nothing more needed to be said. It was powerful, feeling as though something might happen between them without words, without even actions. Yet it didn’t feel radical or new. Rather, Gideon felt a sense of coming home as he let the stillness between them continue to stand. It would end on its own when they were both ready, he knew that, for some understanding had been set in motion between them that couldn’t be taken away.


	3. Chapter 3

 

When Gideon had been young, Rumple and Belle avoided treading too far into the weeds when it came to Christmas. It wasn’t their holiday, after all. Some Storybrooke residents’ cursed memories provided some incentive to keep up certain traditions. Having spent twenty-eight years as a lonely pawn shop owner and an asylum patient, Rumple and Belle had no such fond recollections of Christmas. They liked the lights well enough, and Christmas was as good a reason as any to put a little extra effort into dinner and buy each other gifts. However, Santa Claus and Christmas trees and carols were a step beyond what either of them cared to devote to the celebration. 

Gideon had a bit of a shock when he started school and heard other children talking of their presents from Santa, but he was also clever enough to pick up what had happened. 

“Mama, Santa Claus is just like what we did, only with pretending, right?” he asked after school one day, when they were both in the car and safely out of earshot. When Belle agreed and explained how some parents liked to pretend they were Santa Claus, Gideon nodded sagely. 

“I thought so, because if he was real he would have come to our house, because Rosie and I were really good.”

And that had been that...until Belle and Rumple had decided to begin fostering children, most of whom had grown up with Christmas in one form or another. Suddenly, not having a Christmas tree or neglecting Santa became a thing of the past. Rumple still looked upon the whole matter with suspicion, but the new traditions grew on Belle. 

It seemed that all children, whether they called the time of year Christmas or not, became vulnerable to a certain kind of enchantment when winter arrived. The darkness and icy cold, so tiresome and even frightening to adults, beckoned to children and piqued their curiosity. Much like fairy stories did, the coming of winter lit up the growing parts of children’s souls and made them wonder at the emptiness, the sheer magnitude of what they did not yet know about the world. 

For some children, Santa and Christmas trees played a part in enacting that mystery within them. And to give them that, to see the wonder on their faces, was worth it, no matter how Belle achieved it. 

One of the traditions which proved to be most successful was the children’s annual shopping trip for gifts. What started as a practical convenience for their growing family had turned into something of an event. Rosie always tried to catch her siblings buying her a gift, and whoever finished first got to pick where they went out to dinner afterwards. Research was encouraged, but shopping lists were forbidden (as was getting the same gift for multiple people, gift cards, and calling the store to hold a product). 

In recent years, the older children had roped Belle and Rumple into participating. Though they had their own, less rushed, shopping trips for presents, the challenge of finding a gift for each person as quickly as possible fed into their competitive spirits. Unfortunately, it was also something Rumple was far better at than Belle. Despite his generally methodical nature and his steady, limping pace, he beat her every year.

This year, Belle was determined to win, or at least beat him. Trying to find a present for Roderick would trip him up, she knew it. Besides, she’d been spending extra time building a mental map of how to get to each store she wanted to hit as quickly as possible. The bookstore, the toy store, then over to the department stores, then back around to the novelty shops...she’d be done in record time. 

However, just before they left, Rumple informed Belle that he would be taking Joseph around this year--effectively forfeiting. 

“But I thought Gideon was doing it,” she said with dismay. 

“Well, he already has to help Roderick around, and it’s really for the children anyway,” Rumple replied, smiling back at Joseph, who was already buckled into his booster seat. “We’re going to have fun. He’s got some very good ideas.”

Belle’s eyes narrowed, though Rumple appeared not to notice as he backed out of the drive, following Gideon out of the neighborhood. Rosie and Carrie were giggling in the backseat. 

“You ruined Mum’s plan!” Rosie finally said. “She was going to beat you this year.”

“Was she?” Rumple shrugged. “Ah, well. Maybe next time.”

“It’s because you’re scared,” Belle quipped. “You know I was going to win.”

“Well, I know you’ve been working hard at trying to,” Rumple said, giving her a mischievous sideways glance. “Whether you would have...remains to be seen.”

“Carrie or I can take Joseph around, Papa!” Rosie said. 

“I think not. Carrie already takes twice as long as anyone else, and you’re always running about trying to cause trouble,” Rumple joked. 

“Hey!” Carrie said. “I’ve only been last twice. It’s usually Gideon.”

“No, he’s still quicker than you. He just lets everyone cut him in line because he’s not paying attention,” Rosie said, laughing. “But really, we can do it! And that basically makes it a contest between you and Mum, because no one in the other car is going to win.” 

  
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Belle said, looking at Rumple expectantly. “And you?”

Rumple looked over at her again and shook his head, giving a exasperated chuckle. 

“If you really want me to beat you again, I’m more than happy to accommodate.” 

Belle grinned. “We’ll see.”

* * *

 

Gideon normally looked forward to the annual Christmas shopping trip. It was a spirited, good natured, and often silly event, and it fit his family perfectly. Nothing quite compared to such times, where Gideon could look around and feel at one with a group of people who had all taken part in shaping one another. He was privileged to have that.

Only this year, he also had to contend with Roderick, who had his own way of being, his own history, and it made him nervous. Would Roderick find the whole thing silly? More importantly, what on earth was Gideon going to get him for Christmas?

He’d thought about it for some time, but every idea seemed more banal than the last. It couldn’t be too much, but it also had to have some meaning, or else what was the point? He tried thinking of presents his parents bought each other, but none of them seemed to fit, either. 

Clearly, he was missing something, and when that was the case, there was only one person to talk to. 

“Mum? Do you have a minute?” he asked his mother outside of the mall, after telling Roderick he’d catch up to him. She nodded. 

“What is it?” she said, before looking over her shoulder and calling out to his father, who was opening one of the mall doors. “Hey! You stay here. We’re starting at the same time.” 

He continued opening the door. “I’m just going inside. It’s freezing out here. I promise I won’t so much as touch anything before you get here.” 

“You’d better not,” she said, before turning back to Gideon. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m not sure what to get Roderick,” Gideon admitted. “And you always give the best gifts, so I was just wondering...how to do that.”

She smiled and nodded, getting that thoughtful look in her eye that always gave Gideon comfort. Given a moment or two, she nearly always knew what the right thing to do was. Finally, she said: 

“Well, I usually try and think of what the person needs. And maybe that’s clothes or a toy...but sometimes it’s something more than that. Like, when you were small, I bought your father his first camera. I knew it was something he didn’t have when he was raising Baelfire, and how important it would be to him, being able to keep those memories.”

“He does take a lot of pictures,” Gideon said, reflecting on the walls of their home. She laughed. 

“It’s just things like that. Something that shows them you’ve noticed who they are and what they want, what’s important to them.”

Gideon nodded, though at first he wasn’t quite sure how that helped. He’d thought about what Roderick liked and wanted plenty of times, and it had never amounted to much. But the image of his father’s pictures stayed in his mind, and an idea started forming. He looked at his mother, who grinned. 

“You have an idea now?” she asked. 

“I think maybe...if it works out, yes. I do.” 

“It will,” she said, reaching out her arms to hug him. “Come here...I miss you when you’re away.”

Gideon held her tight. “I miss you, too.”

She let him go, still keeping on hand on his shoulder. “You aren’t planning on moving far away after school, are you?” she joked. 

“I won’t be able to afford to,” Gideon said, laughing. 

“I love you,” she said. “Now, I’m going to go in there and beat your father.”

“Good luck!” Gideon called after her, though he knew he’d need to be the lucky one to pull his idea off. 

* * *

 

Roderick scanned the map of the mall again, knowing he was wasting time, as he had no idea where he wanted to go. He and Gideon had finally split off to get each other’s presents, which would have been fine, if Roderick had any idea what to get him.

He should have been thinking about it before, but for some silly reason he’d assumed that it would come to him in a flash of inspiration. If that was the case, it’d have to come soon. Alice would have been a good person to talk to, but she'd rather suspiciously wandered off with Gideon; she was clearly in on whatever brilliant plan Gideon had for his present. And there he was, without even a bad idea to start off with. 

He sighed and looked over to the left at the food court, which sat just inside of the south entrance to the mall. He’d come all the way around, and still no bright ideas. 

Just as he was contemplating whether or not to check the bookstore again, he spotted Rosie, Carrie, and Joseph at one of the tables in the food court, eating ice cream. Of course, Roderick thought. They’d know what to get him. 

As he approached, a bit nervous to intrude on the family scene, Carrie and Rosie both waved at him. 

“Finished already?” he asked, as Carrie gestured at one of the empty seats. 

“No, Joseph was hungry, so we’re having an ice cream break,” Carrie replied. Roderick noted the chocolate ice cream all over Joseph’s hands and face. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking for a present for Gideon?” Rosie asked. “Or have you already gotten it?” 

“I would be, if I knew what I was looking for,” Roderick said. “What sort of presents do you usually get him?”

Rosie shrugged. “I always just get him a book. But a joke one, you know? Like last year, I got him a big box of dime romance novels. And this year…” she grinned mischievously. “Well, you’ll have to see.”

Carrie gave Rosie an exasperated look. “But we’re his sisters. It’s different when you’re dating someone. Are you going to get Ben a joke present?”

“Maybe I am!” Rosie retorted, but Carrie only looked back at Roderick with an encouraging smile. 

“He’s really easy, Roderick. He likes everything.”

“Yeah, it’s super annoying. He’s always like this,” Rosie pulled a wide eyed grin that, given her resemblance to Gideon, was comically accurate. “I know you like him, and he’s all tall and smart so it tricks people...but he’s not cool. You don’t have to impress him.” 

“I mean, he’s really sweet and all!” Carrie added. 

“Oh, he’s adorable,” Rosie agreed. “You’re really lucky to have him, and if you’re mean to him we’ll kill you. But he’s super lame, too. He’ll like whatever you get him, I promise. Like, Joseph is getting him a--” 

Joseph waved one of his sticky hands in Rosie’s face. “--hey! I don’t wanna tell anybody!”

“Sorry…” Rosie said, poking her tongue out at him. “Anyway, he’s gonna love it.”

Roderick nodded, though in reality he felt more confused than when he’d sat down. “So you really don’t think there’s anything in particular I should try?”

He hoped he didn’t sound too pathetic. They were right: this should have been easy. Carrie looked as though she might have an idea, but just then Mrs. Gold came tripping down the stairs to the food court, about a dozen bags in hand. She came to a clumsy halt at their table.

“Did I do it?” she asked breathlessly. 

“Think so,” Rosie replied, and Mrs. Gold bounced on her heels in excitement.

“Yes!”

“I knew you’d win, Mama!” Joseph declared, and Mrs. Gold beamed at him, too thrilled to either notice or care about the mess he’d made. 

“Are we getting sushi?” Carrie asked, a note of amusement in her voice. 

“Of course we are,” Mrs. Gold said, before looking at Roderick. “Unless you really don’t like it, Roderick--though they have lots of other things there.”

“I love how you asked Roderick if he wanted to go, but your own husband actually hates it and you’re making him take you,” Rosie laughed. Mrs. Gold shook her head. 

“He likes plenty of things there just fine, he just likes being a baby more,” she said before shrugging. “Anyway, I won, so he has to take me.”

Just as she said it, Mr. Gold came ambling down the stairs, struggling a bit with his cane and the bags on his arm. Belle dropped her bags and went over to help him, taking some of his bags and then his arm. Roderick could tell she was teasing him by her expression, but he didn’t seem to mind. Indeed, they both looked quite pleased with themselves, and at the bottom of the stairs he kissed her.

“They’re lame too, Roderick,” Rosie said, and Roderick suddenly felt guilty for staring at them. “That’s where Gideon gets it. It skipped me, and then Carrie and Joseph don’t even have to worry. It’s a nice split.” 

“They seem really happy together,” Roderick said, in spite of himself, wondering if he could have chosen a more obvious and useless comment to make. But Rosie didn’t seem to notice. 

“Yeah, all my friends are obsessed with them,” she said. “It’s kind of sad, actually. Not so much if their parents are divorced, but some of them have parents that are still married, and it’s like...they probably shouldn’t be if you think my parents still liking each other is super exciting.” 

Roderick felt his face getting hot, and the disparity between his own world and the Golds’ seemed vaster than it had since he’d first arrived. 

“That’s true,” he said, though he could hear the tension in his voice. Carrie gave Rosie a look, and Rosie went red. 

“Not that…” she winced. “Sorry, I talk too much--”

“She really does,” Carrie interjected. A silence fell over the table for a moment before Mr. and Mrs. Gold made their way over to them. 

“Hey!” Carrie said, too energetically. Her parents, however, didn’t seem to notice the anxiety in the air. 

“Everything alright over here?” Mr. Gold said, his eyes scanning the table before latching on to Joseph’s scrubby face. “It looks like someone’s gotten ice cream all over...I thought you two were going to watch him?”

However, there was amusement in his eyes when he gave his daughters a scolding look.

“They were, Papa!” Joseph insisted, clearly still worried his sisters might get in trouble. “They did a good job. It just melted a little. Well, kind of a lot.” 

Mr. Gold laughed. “I can see that. You’ll just have to eat it up quicker next time, won’t you?”

He gave his son a wink before taking in the entire table. 

“Now, I’m assuming all of you haven’t actually finished shopping. Do you think maybe we could,”--he made a vague hand rolling gesture-- “wrap that up, sooner rather than later? After you clean Joseph up? We wouldn’t want to keep your mother waiting on her raw fish.” 

Mrs. Gold only rolled her eyes at his teasing. “Let’s put these bags in the car, shall we? And then maybe on the way you’ll remember that you’ve eaten there at least a dozen times and lived.”

And off they went, still arm in arm. After they’d left, Carrie looked at Roderick. 

“Do you still want help finding something?”

But as Roderick watched the Golds walk away, that flash he’d been hoping for had come. He shook his head. 

“No, actually...I think I have an idea.” 


	4. Chapter 4

“Papa! Mama! Can it be Christmas now?”

For the third time that night, Joseph’s lilting voice pulled Rumple out of his slumber. He opened one eye to find Joseph standing at the foot of their bed, on his tiptoes, bouncing in anticipation.

“Can you tell me what time it says on that clock there, son? Just read the numbers.”

“Four, five, six!” Joseph declared triumphantly. “There’s a six now, so it’s Christmas, right?”

“Now, what did I say last time? It has to be a six first thing, remember?”

“That’s so long, Papa!” Joseph said, as though he fully grasped the concept of time.

“It’s not, really,” Rumple said, trying to mask a yawn. “Just go back to bed and-”

“-I can’t!”

“Joseph...” Belle sat up, and Rumple thanked the heavens for her intervention. He wasn’t good at discipline in the best of circumstances, and half-asleep he was even worse. “Your Papa said no, not yet.” 

“But Mama--”

“I can’t make it Christmas when it’s not, honey,” Belle said. “You’ll have to wait.”

That seemed to do it, thankfully. But just as Joseph turned to go, Rumple heard Rosie and Carrie laughing loudly in their room. The house was waking up, whether he liked it or not. 

“It looks like it’s going to come early this year,” he murmured to Belle.

“Again,” she added. 

Sure enough, by five thirty, everyone in the house was downstairs. Next year he’d put his foot down, Rumple thought. Next year everyone would know not to make a peep until seven o’clock. No, eight. He’d earned it, after so many years of being shaken awake before the sun rose. 

Though, as he watched Joseph run to see if Santa had eaten his cookies, Rumple supposed it wouldn’t be Christmas without the unbridled enthusiasm and wonder. Seeing his children so happy brought him joy that was well worth the lost sleep. Then again, a tint of sadness always colored any celebration, a sense in his heart that one child would always be missing. His Baelfire--an artist to his core--would have loved the tree, with its lights and handmade ornaments. 

He also probably would have let his father sleep...Rumple laughed to himself even as his chest ached for the chance to see his son one last time--at any age, really--but especially when he’d been small and easily delighted, with his tiny, shuffling steps he’d use when he was excited but didn’t want to run off where his papa couldn’t follow. 

He could practically see him, despite all the lifetimes that stretched between that time and now. How precious he’d been, how beautiful. They all were, in their own way, and he loved them all desperately. But what he’d learned, more and more as his home grew, was that there was no loving them “the same.” Equally, perhaps, though how one quantified such different sensations Rumple didn’t know. But the same? None of his children chattering underneath the Christmas tree would ever be Bae, would ever cause his heart to stir just the way he had.

Nor, indeed, could his so often solemn and serious Bae have ever made him laugh as Rosie did, and Bae’s stubbornness would have made the many fruitful conversations he had with Gideon impossible. He hadn’t needed his father to show him how spinning and stitching could calm one’s nerves, as Carrie needed it, and he hadn’t gone through a phase of saying “I love you!” to everyone fifty times a day, as Joseph had. 

He’d been utterly unique, and there’d be no replicating the love Rumple had for him in this world. All he could hope was that he’d earned the right to find it again when he passed on. 

Belle came up beside him, and one of her arms quietly looped around his.

“You okay?” she asked, and Rumple nodded.

“I just miss him, that’s all,” he said. “I always will. But they’re happy, and that’s all I can ask for.”

“They are,” Belle agreed, standing on her toes to give him a kiss. “Now, let’s get these presents started. It’s a good thing we’re up so early, really. Between all of us, we’ll be lucky if we get to breakfast before noon.”

* * *

 

Given the choice, Roderick would never have chosen to start Christmas quite so early. If he’d tried waking his parents before the sun came up, he’d have gotten a good smack to the head. However, there was something enchanting about seeing the lit-up tree and stockings before even the sun had a chance to rise. It was like getting a peek at something secret and special. 

Gideon tried to apologize for the early start, but Roderick shrugged it off. 

“What’s the point of Christmas if you’re just going to waste half of it sleeping, right? It’s probably the one day people want to be longer.”

For such a large family, the Golds had an organized gift unwrapping system. First came the stockings--all of which had the recipient’s name sewn on in gold thread. Then, starting with the youngest member of the family and moving all the way up to Mr. Gold, each person took turns opening one gift each. 

As the sun slowly began to peek through the curtains, the piles of presents under the tree began to shrink. So far, Roderick’s favorite present was Joseph’s: a nightlight that looked remarkably like his own. However, a pair of gloves from Mrs. Gold and a coffee mug that said “Fight The Man” from Rosie were close contenders.

Finally, Mrs. Gold announced that--after the next round--they’d be taking a break to eat. 

“So pick a good one!” she said. 

When Roderick’s turn came again, he reached over for Gideon’s gift. It felt like a book of some sort, sturdy and hardcovered. 

“Is it Gideon’s?” Rosie asked knowingly, and Roderick nodded, giving Gideon a sideways glance. Gideon, who was already wearing the candy cane scarf Joseph had bought him, went a bit pink. 

Under the wrapping paper, Roderick found an envelope placed on top of a leather bound book--it looked like a journal of some kind. Inside the envelope was a note from Gideon, which Roderick read to himself:

_ Roderick, _

_ People always think it’s difficult to find out what’s yours and who you are in a big family, and they’re right about that in some ways. But sometimes, having so many people around makes it easier to see where you come from, what you believe, and where you want to grow. Since I’ve been away, I’ve realized that. You feel a bit lost, without your family.  _

_ This has helped. I’ve torn through about three already, all filled with pictures, thoughts, memories, lists...whatever helps when I want to feel like I’m somewhere concrete again.  _

_ I don’t know what you’ll put in yours: feelings or pictures or just water pH samples...but it’s yours. (Except for the first page--sometimes starting with a blank page stalls everything, so there’s a bit in there already to fill in who you are--at least to me, right now).  _

_ Love from, _

_ Gideon  _

He opened the journal, and there in the inside cover, in the left hand corner, was the picture Rosie had taken of them at the airport. Kitty corner to it was a photo Roderick didn’t recognize, but could guess when it had been taken (and by whom). He and Gideon were outside, in front of the science building, laughing at a joke one of them had told. Alice had surely taken it, as Roderick could see her economics notes in the fore of the picture, splayed across the table. 

In the margins between the photos, Gideon had handwritten the dates of the pictures, along with some thoughts. About the airport photo, he’d written:  _ He’s brave enough to face a month with my family, and kind enough to fit right in _ . Next to the other, _ Does it matter that “neither of us are funny” (source: Alice Jones, ten seconds before this picture was taken), as long as we laugh together?  _

“What’s in it?” he heard Joseph whisper to Gideon, breaking the hush that had fallen over the room.

“Just some pictures of us,” he replied, and Joseph nodded as though he now understood. Alice peeked her head over Roderick’s shoulder--though he was certain she already knew exactly what the present contained--and laughed.

“I’m right, too. You aren’t funny, either of you.” 

Roderick elbowed her before turning to Gideon. 

“Thank you. It’s perfect,” he said, knowing that didn’t nearly cover it--though Gideon smiled in relief anyway. 

They’d hardly had a chance to embrace before Alice was tearing the paper off of her next present, from Mr. Gold. It ended up being a large, blue thermos with a spoon.

“So I can take more of the school’s soup for later!” Alice said with a laugh. “You know when they have broccoli cheddar soup every Thursday, but I have class until two? It’s always gone when I get there. And now I’ll just pop in and grab some…” 

Alice’s brow knit, and she turned to Mr. Gold. “I didn’t remember I’d told you that…”

“I have a way of finding things out,” Mr. Gold said, winking at Gideon. “It’s part of being a parent.” 

Alice grinned and went back to marvelling her thermos. All eyes went to Gideon, who hesitated when selecting a present. 

“You have to pick Roderick’s now, or else he’ll be nervous all during breakfast,” Rosie joked. 

Roderick thought perhaps he’d be nervous regardless, though Gideon followed her advice and procured Roderick’s box, which contained a porcelain figurine of a grey mouse, just smaller than Gideon’s palm. 

Gideon looked puzzled at first, before he spotted a piece of faux parchment next to the figurine. He picked it up, and Roderick could tell from his expression that his mind was beginning to piece it together.

“The Most Delightful Adventures of Gideon the Mouse…” he read aloud, a smiling crossing his face. 

He remembered, Roderick could tell. How the first time they’d spoken to each other had been because Roderick had found a mouse in his bed and screamed. Gideon had asked if it was grey, and after hearing Roderick’s faint reply of, “I think so...it ran away,” had assured him that--if it was grey--he knew which mouse it was, and it didn’t bite. 

“It’s just lonely,” he’d said. “Like everything else up here.” 

From then on, the two boys had been fast friends. It wasn’t until later that their mouse friend--who never strayed far from his two companions--received his name. That had come after Gideon had found his mother’s book, and they’d discovered the Hero Gideon’s propensity for shape-shifting. 

“I told you some people give their boyfriends joke presents,” Rosie said to Carrie. 

“But what’s the joke?” Carrie asked, eyeing the figurine with distaste. 

“It’s about  _ Her Handsome Hero _ ,” Gideon said. “Before he sets off on his first quest, a wizard gives Gideon the power to turn into any living creature he chooses. We had a mouse in our...dorm. Up in the ceiling. So he’d say my name, and we’d joke about which Gideon he was talking to.”

“Like I said: not funny,” Alice murmured. 

Nevertheless, Gideon seemed amused--and something else he was trying to hide from his family. He set the figurine back down in its box, gave its head a tap to make sure it was steady, and smiled at Roderick.

“I’d forgotten about that until just now,” he said, his voice not quite able to conceal the emotion behind the words. Roderick only nodded, and Gideon--who had that look in his eye that told Roderick he was one step away from bursting into tears--pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered. When he pulled away, he seemed utterly put together again. 

“Now it’s Mum’s turn,” he said, his voice light, if a bit breathless. Roderick said nothing else, for fear of causing Gideon to break when he clearly didn’t want to. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help reaching out a hand for Gideon to clasp, which he readily did.

* * *

 

Gideon gripped Roderick’s hand in his own, trying to keep his thoughts on the here and now. 

His mother was opening one of the several gifts his father had bought for her. Most of them were sentimental trinkets or useful things, but everyone knew to expect one expensive item: usually a dress or jacket or pair of shoes, perfectly tailored for her size and tastes. Like magic, every year, he managed to find something she absolutely adored. 

It wasn’t until later in life that they’d all discovered that she selected that particular gift herself each year, sometimes even putting it away at the store for Rumple to dutifully pick up.

“That way I get what I want,” she always said, matter of factly. “There are some gifts that should be a surprise: clothes aren’t one of them.” 

This year, he’d bought her a pair of sturdy but sleek brown hiking boots. She marvelled over them for a moment before giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“They’re beautiful,” she said. “Exactly the ones I wanted.”

“Well, I have gotten very good at following instructions,” he joked. “Now then...which one should I open?”

Amidst the many cries to open this or that one, he pulled out a large, flat, rectangular present from Belle. He looked around the house, filled to the brim with its picture frames, and grinned.

“I wonder what this could be?” 

Belle exchanged a nervous look with Gideon, who knew what the package contained. He’d helped his mother find the right frame. 

For a moment, his father only stared in confusion at the several inky portraits, positioned and framed amongst a dark green background. Gideon could well imagine how it felt, trying to draw the memories to the front of his mind, trying to convince himself that what had been so long buried could be uncovered again. 

“They’re Bae’s,” he said, in barely a whisper. “But where did you--?”

“Emma called me a few weeks ago,” his mother said. “Killian had some old trunks he just sort of moved off of the Jolly Roger twenty years ago, and they’d never looked through them. But now they’re downsizing because their daughter--also an Alice, isn’t that funny?--is going to university. And Emma was going through them and found these. They were a little water damaged, and of course they’re old, but she wanted you to have them. So I had her mail them over. She gave a few to Henry, too, I think. But these ones...well, they belong to you, I’d say.”

He didn’t reply, entranced as he was by the pictures. He traced his fingers over the glass, lingering over the spinning wheel and the two figures beside it, then over to Bae’s portrait, then--slowly and shakingly--over to his own. 

“He had such a talent,” he finally whispered. “I almost forgot.”

In another moment, his head was buried in Belle’s shoulder. 

“Thank you,” Gideon heard him say. “Thank you so much.”

“What’s wrong?” Joseph asked, scooting over to Gideon and pulling on his sleeve.

“Those are old pictures that Baelfire drew. You remember how we talked about him?” 

“Oh, yeah!” Joseph said. “And is it sad because he’s dead?”

“Sort of,” Gideon replied. “But it’s also happy, because having those pictures makes Papa feel like he’s a little more alive.”

Joseph didn’t seem to understand, but he put his arms around Gideon’s waist anyway and squeezed him tight. The whole room seemed to feel Rumple’s grief and joy, until he pulled away from Belle, still clearly shaken, but no longer crying.

“I’m sorry...but anyway, we were going to eat,” he said. Belle looked at him questioningly, but he shook his head and attempted an easy smile. “You know it’s not really Christmas until someone fights over the last pastry.” 

At his insistence, everyone stood up and made their way to kitchen, though Rumple himself did not move. Gideon hung back, watching his father turn back to the pictures. He hesitated before taking a few steps toward him.  

“Papa? Do you want to be alone?”

“No. No, I don’t. Not ever again,” he said, almost to himself, before tearing his eyes away from the picture and facing Gideon. “You knew about this?”

“Mum told me. It’s amazing, that they found them after all this time.”

But his father only shook his head. 

“That’s how things are...they just pop up long after you thought you’d lost them,” he said, before looking at Gideon knowingly. “It’s happened to you today, too, hasn’t it? That mouse wasn’t in your dorm, I’ll bet.” 

He gave a slight incline of his head toward the empty space beside him on the couch. Gideon sat down next to him, feeling a bit unsteady. 

“No.”

“A good thing, too,” he chuckled. “You know how much money I pay that school to keep you there?”

Gideon tried to laugh, but instead he felt the tears he’d held back before coming to the fore. 

“Oh,” his father whispered, reaching out and taking Gideon’s cheek in his hand. “Here now…it’s alright.”

In another moment, he was in his father’s arms. It’s where he always seemed to end up, when words became too difficult, when reason and questions didn’t reach far enough. So often, Gideon felt like his mother’s son--he wanted to be like her, trusted her judgment, and understood the ins and outs of her mind. But there was something still and deep within him that belonged to his father, that sought him out when things seemed darkest. 

“Thank you for saving me,” he said, still clinging to his father. “For saving him.”

“Well, what else was I going to do?” his father said, pulling away, though one hand still cupped Gideon’s jaw. “I was foolish enough to lose one son. I couldn’t do it again. Not for anything.”

Gideon nodded before pressing his forehead to his father’s temple. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, son.”

Before another instant could pass between them, Rosie’s voice came crying from the kitchen: 

“Papa! Didn’t you say I could have champagne yesterday? Mum doesn’t believe me.”

“No, he didn’t say that!” Carrie responded. “He said over eighteen, and that’s not you!”

“‘Over eighteen’-- that’s not you, either! You’re  _ just _ eighteen.”

“Well, it seems the time for holiday sentimentality is up,” his father quipped, giving Gideon’s shoulder one last squeeze before reaching for his cane. “You coming to eat?”

Gideon gave another glance to the mouse in the still open box, took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Absolutely.” 


End file.
